Unlikely Crossed Stars
by starburst99
Summary: Katsa/Giddon Drabbles, R&R.
1. Rejection

**Katsa and Giddon, which, strangely, I ship (and there, last time I checked, are no stories about). **

* * *

"_Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind,"  
__ -Helena, A Midsummer's Night's Dream, (I, i, 234)_

"_Marry me," he said.  
__-Giddon, Graceling, (Pg. 139)_

As he watched Katsa leave, so fast he was sure the horse would be dead the moment it deposited her at her destination, he let his breath out, and sat down on the ground with a thump.

The wind ruffled his clothing, mussed his hair, raised goosebumps on his arms, but he didn't feel all too cold. He swallowed, and felt a tear fall out of his eye, sliding warm down his cheek, then, numbly, he felt salt in his mouth, running over his chapped lips.

His head ached, mind incredulous, heart bewildered. Hatred began to seep into him, mingling with the disbelief.

He'd been rejected, he so eligible, fine and rich a gentleman as she'd ever come by, moreover, agreeable, friendly, and definitely handsome, from all the female interest he generated at court, all the female interest he'd rejected for Katsa.

Oh, Katsa, his Katsa, had just took off on her horse, off to the king's castle, away from his castle, down the road and off and away.

Towards her precious Lienid, with the odd glowing eyes and rings and dark hair and dark skin. Her Lienid, who had barged into his life uninvited and stolen Katsa away from him.

It wasn't fair. He'd gotten there first, he'd been there longer, been with her through pain and joy and sucess and failure. It was him that she used to spend time with, he who, on the occasional instance, would make her face light up in a smile, blue and green eyes dance in surprising harmony.

It just wasn't fair.

At that moment, it wasn't Katsa that clouded him with rage, but her gods curst Lienid.

* * *

**Review?**


	2. Denial

**I don't really like this one, but...I'm not actually going to update the story I haven't updated in two, three weeks when I have this one, right? **

* * *

"_He spends more time than he used to on his own estate...but...I daresay he'd object to seeing you someday,"  
__ -Raffin, about Giddon, Graceling, (Pg. 466)_

_I never knew until that moment how bad it could hurt to lose something you never really had.  
__-The Television Show The Wonder Years_

They hadn't known how bad it was, how terrible, because Giddon had never been one to be grim and gloomy. He had always been bright- confident and humorous and pleasant. But since he was Giddon, an underlord with a considerable amount of land and nothing else of interest, they just assumed he was all right. After all, it was Giddon. He was just a bit...unhappy. He seemed fine enough.

At home, at home his smile dropped, face slackened, eyes lost their twinkle. He'd wander the halls, lost, wishing, wistful and sad, that there was a wife and children and all their respective noise echoing through the long stone corridors.

And then, he got fired up all over again.

He missed Katsa, missed the hope and joy she gave him, and hated the Lienid for all that he'd taken from him.

But somewhere, with Giddon-like pigheaded hope, the odd confidence he saved for Katsa, for being so many things no one else was, he still nursed far-fetched dreams. That Katsa would come back, that she would realize how much better, how much more deserving he was than the Lienid, and run back into his arms, not the Lienid's.

So when they visited, years later, Katsa's hair shoulder legnth and tangle, his eyes slightly more distant, but both of them relatively the same, the sight of their interlocked hands sent bile churning in his stomach.

He couldn't help it. The blood pounded in his ears, the pricks on the corners of his eyes told him he was probably about to make a Lake Giddon in the middle of Randa's throne room, and he felt like a balloon left too long- filled with air, but never as much as he had before.

His legs carried him out, of the room, to the courtyard, down secret alleyways, to a damp, secluded corner.

And, with the tears flowing down his cheek, he threw up everything he had ever eaten.

* * *

**Review? Reviews make me happy...**


	3. Contemplation

**YEAH! Another update! And, well, it hasn't been that long? Not a month yet. This was supposed to be a drabble, but it's over 200 words...anyway...**

* * *

"_It breaks my heart, it makes me sad to think of all the times we had.  
__You made me laugh and you made me cry.  
__And all I can do is wonder why."_

_ -Author Unknown _

"_'Does it make it easier?'  
__She squinted at the form hunched in the saddle. 'I don't understand you,'  
__'To have beautiful eyes. Does it lighten the burden of your Grace, to know you have beautiful eyes?'"_

_ -A conversation between Prince Tealiff and Katsa, Graceling, (Pg. 22)_

He leaned out the window, and stared up into the sky, dark, dark navy, so dark and deep just to stare was like drowning. It was hard to remember the blissful shade of bright, light blue that had graced it earlier, carefree and gay.

The eye.

The single blue eye which had always pierced his own. He'd always see that one first, then the green. The green was light, and it fell backwards while the blue came forward, beautiful and fragile, until you saw that murderous, savage glint, and then it was fear.

Just fear.

The eye was like the sky. It was pretty, damn pretty, and it washed over your heart, irresistible, and swallowed you up in visions of summer. But when you peeled back the layers of day that masked the night, you were surrounded by black.

Indeed, it was a pretty covering for a black heart.

* * *

**Ooh...you really want to review now, don't you? Yeah, you do. I know it. **


End file.
